


To Know The Difference

by suzvoy



Category: As the World Turns
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-24
Updated: 2013-11-24
Packaged: 2018-01-02 13:28:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1057313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suzvoy/pseuds/suzvoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reid discovers there's a reason Luke doesn't write anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Know The Difference

**Author's Note:**

> Lure fic! Rated PG-13 for language. This one focuses on a subject close to my heart.
> 
> Many thanks to my lovely, lovely ladies, nel and d. *MWA* Feedback would be fantastic :)
> 
> This was originally posted on my LJ, [here](http://suzvoy.livejournal.com/2545651.html).

As soon as he sees the patient, Reid knows he's not going to make it. That doesn't stop him from doing his best to save him though, because it's his job, and Reid Oliver will always do his job. When the patient goes into arrest with his head cut open in the OR, there's nothing Reid can do to save him. Calling it seventeen minutes later, Reid sews him back up before snapping his gloves off and throwing them in the medical disposal trash, pushing through the swing doors and walking the few corridors that will take him to the parents. He doesn't know them - doesn't know the kid, either - and breaks the news as kindly as he can.

Reid's seen each reaction a hundred times. It's the father who breaks down, clutching onto his wife who murmurs nonsense as tears run down her face.

Reid prefers to give them any information they'll need as soon as possible, working as efficiently as he can, but he's learnt that for now he needs to leave them to their grief. Moving away, he tugs the surgical cap off, sighing as he runs a hand through his hair. As long as he's been doing this, he still hates losing any of them.

"Reid," Casey says out of nowhere, making Reid doing a double-take. He's pissed at first, then notices exactly what Casey said. For the last - extremely irritating - year, Casey always greets him with the phrase, _What's up, Doc?_ , often accompanied by loud chewing noises.

He notices it but, at first, he doesn't really give a damn.

_23\. Dark blond. Drunk at the wheel._

_Could've been Luke._

"Don't you have bodily fluids to clear up somewhere?"

Again, Casey's reaction is far from normal. No rolling his eyes, no remark about cleaning the hideous stain that was Reid's face. "He didn't make it?" Casey asks seriously instead, eyes fixed firmly on the grieving parents.

Finally realising this is important; Reid gives Casey his full attention. "You knew him?"

Face drawn tightly, Casey nods, still staring at the parents. "You could say that. Luke used to be in love with him."

The realisation hits Reid square in the chest. Kevin Davis, the 23 year-old drunk at the wheel.

Kevin.

Luke's Kevin.

Fuck.

*

Luke hadn't talked about Kevin much, but he had talked about him enough for Reid to know the guy was an idiot. It wasn't much of a realisation - most people were idiots, in Reid's opinion - but Kevin was the special kind of moron, rejecting Luke's friendship because he was gay. As far as Reid was concerned, anyone who rejected Luke in any way was a moron (he and Noah got on pretty well by now - being on opposite sides of the continent helped - but he was still on Reid's private shit list). Things got even worse when Kevin and Luke went up against each other for the student election in college.

"What an imbecile," Reid shakes his head when Luke tells him about the episode.

"I'm the one who got expelled," Luke points out. "I hate to think what you're about to call me. I didn't like it at the time but when you think about it, his tactics were sound - a beer for a vote. Pretty clever, if you ask me."

"Sure," Reid agrees, "if by clever you mean colossally stupid."

Rolling his eyes, Luke nudges Reid with his shoulder. "It's sweet that you care, but if he'd done that to anyone else you'd be congratulating him."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Reid retorts, pretending to look through the newspaper. "Is there toast?"

*

Casey comes with him - i.e., insists on being there - when he breaks the news to Luke. Fate being the fickle bitch that it is, Luke's clearly had a good day, practically bouncing across their apartment. "Hi," he greets Reid warmly with a kiss, before slapping Casey on the upper arm. "Hi, Case! Good to see you. Are you staying for dinner?" He immediately starts heading towards the kitchen. "I don't know if The Stomach here has left us anything worthwhile to eat, but I'm sure we can manage to rustle something up-"

"Luke," is all that Reid says and he can tell by the way Luke freezes, the set of his shoulders, that Luke knows straight away that it's bad news.

When he hears the news, he's silent for a while, sitting on the edge of the sofa. Reid perches next to him while Casey perches on the coffee table.

Eventually, he licks his lips and speaks. "I'm sad for him. I'm sad for his family. But when you told me something bad had happened, my mind went to a hundred other people first. He didn't even cross my mind."

Quite frankly, Reid is relieved and doesn't even mind when Casey slaps him on the back.

Casey stays for dinner - take-out - and he and Luke regale Reid with Kevin's greatest hits. It's not all bad, but there is a lot of immaturity - stuff you'd expect from teenagers. Casey even acts a little chagrined at some of the stunts he pulled during the whole election fiasco.

"I totally deserved to be canned," he admits. "But I thought he was attacking my amigo, so...what's a guy to do?"

"Oh, *God*, that UsTube video," Luke moans, rubbing a hand over his face. Reid has long heard all about it.

"At least it doesn't exist anymore," Casey says, fumbling around for another container of food. "And, uh..." He pauses, hands clasped around a new box. "I don't think Kevin had anything to do with that, you know." He clears his throat afterward, smiling. "Now, his campaign manager? *That* was an asshole."

Casey leaves sometime after ten; Reid and Luke crawl into bed sometime after that. Despite his assurances that he's okay, Luke doesn't fall asleep quickly. Wide awake, Reid holds him and stares at the bedroom wall.

It's almost midnight when Luke speaks.

"I used to think I was so in love with him...and he didn't even cross my mind. Isn't that sad?"

Reid can't disagree with him.

*

Luke writes. This is something Reid knows.

This is something Reid only knows objectively, because he's never seen Luke write anything longer than a note,

_If you eat the last bag of chips without replacing them again, I'm leaving you for Casey who may be straight, but isn't an Evil Chip Stealer. I hope you and your hardened arteries will be very happy together_

a shopping list,

_Fruit_  
Vegetables  
Milk  
Cheese  
Chips for Luke  
Supplies for The Fifty Foot Stomach 

or a letter:

_Dear Sir,_

_I'm writing to your publication to refute the ridiculous letter you printed last week from a reader who claimed that she 'didn't have a problem with those gays, I just don't want them around my kids'. By publishing this letter you're giving her opinion weight at a time when political activism for gay rights is still desperately needed. I strongly believe..._

One weekend, Reid's going through a box from the move that ended up never being emptied and sat in the corner of the closet for three months. Surprised by the contents, he discovers a huge pile of papers and notebooks. Picking up a book, Reid flips it open and smiles at the contents of the first page:

_Property of Luke Snyder_

_Writer_

Chuckling to himself, imagining a teenage Luke furiously writing down everything that came to mind, Reid flips over to the next page and starts to read.

That's exactly how Luke finds him three hours later - only by then he's on to the fifth book.

"Oh, geez," Luke comments, sliding his back down the wall until he's sitting on the floor next to Reid. Having had to go into work he's wearing suit pants, but he doesn't care about the dust, picking up a piece of paper. "I forgot about this stuff," he smiles, examining the paper closely. He leans closer to Reid, teasing. "Am I any good, Dr Oliver?"

Slamming the book shut, Reid lifts his head. "Very," he replies and not just to see the smile on Luke's face. "Seriously, Luke. I know you told me you used to write, but you actually have talent. And I'm not talking about that Dan Brown or Stephanie Meyer crap that passes as literature-"

"You know who Stephanie Meyer is?"

"-and sure, it needs some work and a good editor," Reid presses on, deliberately not answering that question, "but I can only imagine how good you'd be if you'd kept it up. Why'd you stop?"

Losing the smile, Luke shrugs, looks away and lets the piece of paper fall back into the box. "I grew up, I guess? I think it was just the tortured gay teenager thing. You know: life is so unfair! Let me express myself in paragraph!"

Not entirely convinced, Reid nonetheless nods his understanding. "I didn't write. I memorised the entire limbic system." Most of his teenage years were spent with his head stuck in a book.

Luke's grin is back, leaning towards him. "I would've loved to have seen you as a science geek as a kid. There must be pictures somewhere. Did you have pocket protectors?"

There's nothing Reid won't tell Luke, and he's not even ashamed of it. "I may have."

"So did I!" Luke laughs. "See? Geeks together. We were fated from the start."

Reid's not about to argue with fate.

Or Luke Snyder.

*

The funeral is a few days later. Luke's parents insist on going with them, although it's clear Holden doesn't think much of Kevin.

Reid's respect for Holden increases.

The funeral does exactly what it needs to. Luke's eyes water but he doesn't cry and he grasps tightly on to Reid's hand the entire time.

This being Oakdale, everyone and their dog brought food for the wake and as Luke's arranging a bowl of pasta salad on the table, a guy approaches him. Reid's on the other side of the room but when he sees the guy's body language, he's barely excusing himself from whatever conversation he'd been sucked into and making his way across the room.

As life often goes with Luke, he needn't have worried. By the time he gets over there, Luke is giving as good as he's getting.

"-as much right to be here as you do, Mark. We may not have been friends when he died, but while we were growing up I was more of a friend to him than you ever were."

Mark's not pleased. "All I know is, Kevin thought it was disgusting that you're gay and the last thing he'd want-"

"Actually, Mark," Luke interrupts, "that was you. Kevin apologised for the way he treated me. Now, I really don't think this is the time or place for-"

"*I'll* decide when I'm finished talking," Mark rumbles.

"Hey, Class Act," Reid butts in, standing next to Luke and glaring at this Mark. "We're at a wake. Save the chest thumping for a time when it won't upset Kevin's parents even further, okay?"

Huffing out an angry breath, Mark must have at least one brain cell, because he whirls around and stomps away.

Luke looks over Reid's shoulder. "I better go apologise to Kevin's parents."

Reid lifts a hand, about to point out that Luke hasn't done anything wrong, but Luke is already walking away.

*

Every few months or so, when Reid's able to make it to some kind of family gathering at the farm, he'll realise that Luke's not in the house. On the first visit he searched through every single room before stepping outside. Now he knows exactly where to go.

On the side of the house is an ancient basketball hoop. Reid doesn't know how long it's been there, but certainly since before Luke was born. Given its age, it should be half hanging off but it still looks sturdy, held securely in place. Now, just like almost every time before, Reid leans against a fence and watches Luke dribble the ball around. From past experience Reid knows that Luke doesn't want any company out there, but he doesn't mind Reid observing.

He also knows that Luke won't try to get the ball through the hoop. He'll never take that shot.

There's a change to the usual routine when Reid hears the screen door snap shut and Holden's walking towards him. He and Holden don't talk a lot - which is not to say that they don't communicate - and they nod at each other as Holden draws up alongside Reid, turning to watch his son.

"Some days," Holden begins quietly, "I wonder how things could've gone. If he'd been in the NBA, a world-famous author..."

Luke did seem to be good at everything. "He'd never leave Oakdale."

Holden shrugs. "He would if you asked him to."

Reid knows it's not a warning - just a statement of fact. "I'd never do that to him."

"Oh, I know," Holden nods, looking back out to Luke. "But whatever the case, he's happy. There are good days and bad days, just like anyone else...but an alcoholic kid who never finished college? He's not meant to be happy. But he is."

Reid knows that he could make a comment about Luke living a life half-finished. Reid also knows that Luke is just 23. He'll figure it out.

As Reid watches, Luke holds the ball in both hands and stares up at the hoop.

"How long are you gonna keep making sure that thing stays up there?"

Holden's smile is old and hopeful at the same time. "Until he's ready."

Luke doesn't take the shot.

When he comes to find Reid afterward his smile is quick to come, natural, and for all the low moments there are a million more like these.

*

Luke is restless for days. It's driving Reid insane and Luke won't talk about it.

Reid has the feeling it's more than just Kevin's death, and is five minutes from calling Lucinda for back-up when Luke finally stops moving around the apartment and plops himself down next to Reid on the sofa.

He bites his lip. "Will you come to my meeting?"

And it all makes sense.

Reid doesn't actually go into the meeting, waiting outside the building instead. Sitting inside a parked car for a prolonged period of time sets off his claustrophobia, so he's leaning against the car when he sees Jack Snyder walking towards him.

There's another surprise.

"Carly?"

Jack nods. "Luke?"

Reid nods back.

Jack leans next to him. "I heard about that Davis kid. Investigated the accident, actually."

Not much he can say to that. "Yeah."

There's a pause. "Kevin was the kid he used to drink with. I mean, don't get me wrong, Luke did a lot of drinking all by himself - Kevin didn't make him an alcoholic."

"But he didn't help."

"Yeah."

Reid knew that. Luke didn't talk about his drinking much, but Reid had compared the timelines he knew and figured out that the bulk of Luke's drinking happened when Kevin was around.

Neither he or Jack are much for small talk - or spending time in each other's company - so not much else is said until the doors finally open and people start stepping outside. Luke and Carly walk out together and as Reid watches, Carly wraps an arm around Luke, pulling him into a hug. She kisses his cheek and they smile at each other for a moment, before pulling away and making their way down the steps.

Lifting a hand, Jack catches Carly's attention, nodding towards their car. Before he walks off, he turns back to Reid and doesn't hesitate before he speaks. "Loving an alcoholic...it's the hardest thing you'll ever do. And that includes raising kids."

Reid knows why he's saying it. Reid knows that, one day, Luke will probably fall off the wagon. "I have no intention of going anywhere."

There's no smile, but Jack nods before he walks away.

That night, he and Luke are in bed together. Luke's straddling his body and they're holding still, savouring. Sometimes Reid thinks this is almost better than the sex, but then they have sex and...well. Reid changes his mind.

"I'll make you a deal," Reid says, cupping Luke's face.

Luke squints at him. "Are you gonna hold my orgasm hostage?"

Chuckling, Reid shakes his head. "You know how I feel about orgasm denial."

"Then what?"

He finds himself doing something spectacularly cheesy, like staring right into Luke's eyes. "I think you want to try writing again. And I think you should."

Luke's face shutters and he abruptly looks away. "I told you, that was just when I was a kid-"

"I think you've convinced yourself that if you start writing again, you'll start drinking again. And I think that doesn't have to be the case."

Reid knows he's got it nailed when Luke meets his gaze. "Reid...we...I have to avoid triggers, and-"

"I know about triggers," Reid nodded. "You might be right. But I also think you might be wrong. And I really don't want you to regret anything you don't do in life."

Luke bites his lip. "What's the deal?"

"Not much of one, to be fair," Reid admits. "I'm already madly in love with you and ridiculously proud of you, so the deal is...more of the same? And if the need to drink is ever so strong that you feel like you can't stop yourself, you come to me first. Deal?"

Luke never gives him an answer. Never tells him if he starts writing again.

A few months later Reid's at the farm, helping Ethan draw a realistic diagram of the body's internal organs - the kid's not entirely useless at it - when he hears the distinctive thud of a basketball on the side of the house.

When Ethan asks him why he's smiling so much, all Reid can do is laugh.

*

_God grant me the serenity_  
to accept the things I cannot change;  
courage to change the things I can;  
and wisdom to know the difference. 

_\- Reinhold Niebuhr_

*


End file.
